Sex, Love, and Other Ridiculous Excuses
by Pearls and Opals
Summary: Five years after leaving Hogwarts, Hermione and Ron marry. But a year afterwards, Hermione finds herself hopelessly drunk and in the arms of another man: Harry Potter, who happens to be married himself. [ Reposted after some serious editing. ]


**Disclaimer - I own nothing but the plot.**

Summary - Five years after leaving Hogwarts, Hermione and Ron marry. But a year afterwards, Hermione finds herself hopelessly drunk and in the arms of another man: Harry Potter, who happens to be married himself.

Author's Note: I had posted this about eight months ago, and realized how poor the writing quality had been. This is the newer, more updated, more detailed version. Enjoy.

_Prologue_

Sex, Love, and Other Ridiculous Excuses

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Hermione, always being the person to be logical about most things and sure of herself both in life and relationships, would have probably done a very un-Hermione-ish thing five years ago: laugh uproariously at the idea of marrying her best friend and ex-boyfriend: Ronald Weasley, now Keeper for his favorite Quidditch team: the Chudley Cannons. (sp? I think that's right, but tell me if I'm wrong, please. Thanks.)

But then again, Hermione never would have suspected that Ron would _actually_ ask her to marry him. Granted, they _had _been a couple seventh year, and Hermione supposed she _had_ actually loved him once, and might have been able to make herself do it again, but on the other hand, she had always assumed she'd fall into a type of love that could _scare_ you because it was so powerful and honest. Sort of like…Harry and Ginny?

At this thought, her heart clenched painfully, causing her breath to catch in her throat. The feeling was so unexpected that she almost dropped her suitcase on her foot. To steady herself, her hand flew out to grab the hand-railing on the wall. She stood there, panting almost, trying to still her heart and her racing mind, deciding that she'd figure out where the _hell_ that had come from later.

But, anyway; so much for stereotypes.

Hermione thought, with a bit of a smile, how silly the situation still was, in a way that was almost funny. She still couldn't believe it herself when Ron had presented her with a ring that must have cost at least fifty galleons in a black velvet case two months ago, but there you had it. In fact, she couldn't believe all of her furniture was being moved into the flat that she and Ron had rented out a week ago— the last of her things were being carried up at that precise moment.

And Hermione, being her predictable, logical self, never was one for surprises.

After running out on Ron and not answering his visits at her door, or his letters by owl for two weeks, Hermione had done some serious thinking: Did she actually want to spend the rest of her life with Ron, the still lanky, still red-headed freckled man that had made fun of her ruthlessly at the beginning of her first year, and had taken her virginity at the end of her seventh? She hadn't been sure at first, and was still a bit undecided about the whole thing, but, in the end, genes had triumphed over desire, basically meaning that Hermione had said yes.

And then, they were married. Just like that.

At that moment, she thought of Harry again, but this time, she smiled.

She hadn't seen him since the wedding, when he had proudly stood beside Ron as Hermione had walked down the aisle, in a, ahem, _white_ dress. Harry had been grinning his boyish grin, Mrs. Weasley sobbing, and Ginny making kissy-faces at Ron-- some things, apparently, never change. It hadn't been a huge wedding-- just her parents and the Weasley clan and Harry, but it had been enough, way more then enough for Hermione. And that was just the way she wanted it.

Ginny and Harry, having been married three months before, were still new at the whole 'marriage concept' so Hermione really couldn't ask Ginny about marital advice, and well, honestly, she felt too uncomfortable about asking Mrs. Weasley, even though she loved the elderly woman dearly.

But still. Hermione felt positive, even sure about her and Ron's marriage. She loved him, that much she knew, even if she wasn't _in_ love with him. So much sure that she and Ron had even talked about starting a family in the near future, which was something that she wanted very, very much.

And then, the nagging feeling returned, tugging at Hermione so sharply that she couldn't push it away: At their wedding, as Hermione and Ron were exchanging vows, and as Ron was saying the infamous 'I do', Hermione had looked out of the corner of her eye to catch one last look at Harry before she was finally a married woman-- and was surprised to find the smile turned into a frown, and, as he met her eyes, she thought she saw...regret? Anger?

She hadn't been sure, then. Thinking it had been a mere trick of light, she had smiled back at him, and then looked at Ron, who was smiling so big and wide at the time that Hermione let out a chuckle. But now she was positive that she _had_ seen some kind of sorrow on his face, even if it had only been for a second.

"Hermione?"

Coming out of her thoughts, she replied with a soft smile, "Yes, Ron?"

"You like it, right? Because if not—"

Hermione laughed.

"That's the fourth time you've asked, love, and for the fourth time, yes. It's perfect. Like I've told you."

Ron grinned, and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her forehead.

"_You're_ perfect, Hermione. You're my everything. Like _I've_ told you."

And then she forgot about Harry, and her worries and her marriage-jitters, and let herself melt into Ron's embrace. At the moment, there was nothing but Ron. And her. Together. Happy, even.


End file.
